A Bad Day
by soffeeme
Summary: Harry Potter was having a bad day. Ginny Weasley broke up with him. And somehow, he got sent into the parallel universe where the war never happened, and everyone he knew was alive and well, including his own divorced parents.
1. one bad day

November 25th, 1999

Hogwarts, Scotland

One would think after having saved the entire wizarding world when he was nothing more than a teenage disaster of a seventeen-year-old boy, he would be excluded having to experience any more bad days for the rest of his hopefully long life. But it appeared that the opposite was quite true.

For Harry had never felt quite so unlucky in his short teenage life ever before (even if he was technically adult right now), and he'd been unlucky for most of his unfortunate life. Having to fear for his life in the case somebody suddenly decided to strike for him through most of his teenage-hood really did something to the otherwise perfectly ordinary teenage boy.

"Look, Harry." Ginny began pointedly, biting her lips somewhat anxiously. "We need to break up."

Like he'd said, he was having a tremendously bad day. Not only did he wake up with the worst hangover he'd experienced in his life (truthfully, the only hangover he ever had since he'd never quite spent enough time on getting drunk before the bald bastard was defeated for the good of the world) and somehow managed to trip on his way down the stairs and in the process, almost fell down the moving stairs before he finally made it to the Great Hall.

And then, as if that wasn't nearly enough, he had come in such a time that all of his housemates had already gone and eaten, and therefore, was forced to eat all alone by himself at the Gryffindor table.

And now, if only to make the day even worse than it already was before Ginny opened her pretty little mouth, the witch he thought to be the love of his life was going to break up with him. Now, the only thing worse than this would be if Ron and Hermione suddenly decided to abandon him now that the war was done and over with for the good.

Harry blinked his eyes wide, staring gapingly at the redhead. "But, why?" he asked.

"Harry, it's not like I don't love you. I think some part of me would always love you regardless of what may happen to us in the future, but I've spent thinking things through yesterday." She told him with an amount of finality he couldn't argue with.

"And I've come to the conclusion that I deserve better than to be forever tied to the one man that haven't looked at me twice in that way before I've started dating Dean. And it's not even like I'm not blaming you or anything. You didn't owe it to me to return the childish feelings I've had since like forever. I've always known that. But all I am saying is that I deserve to be loved by someone who didn't make me feel as if I wasn't nearly enough to be like any of the other girls you've crushed on before."

"Ginny –, "

But she didn't let him continue. She just went on with a saddening smile, regret filling her face like a tragic tale. "And I get that we aren't the same people we've used to be before everything had changed. The war had changed us more than any of us would like to admit, Harry." She told him sadly, sighing deeply under her throat. "And I am really sorry, Harry. I really am. And I hope you'd find the will to forgive me someday, but I just can't continue living this way anymore. I think I deserve way better life than that. After all, we only live once, don't we?"

"It's alright, Ginny. You don't need to explain any more. It's not like you've done something wrong here."

Only broke his heart. But he wasn't going to guilt-trip her like that. It wouldn't be fair to either of them. Besides, what else would it really achieve other than a heartbreak? Neither of them needed that today. "I understand somewhat why you've decided to end us. I think, deep down, I've always known. We are not meant to be together, are we?"

She shook her head bitterly. "No, I don't think we ever did." She told him bluntly.

"Come on, how about a farewell hug at least?" He asked, opening his arms wide for her to fall in.

Ginny laughed bitterly and jumped into his arms with an amount of force that made him stumble back a step from where he stood in the Astronomy Tower, the familiar scent of roses and lilies threatening to fill him with the sense of nostalgia and familiarity he didn't quite need right now.

"You are a good man, Harry Potter." She told him with a small smile, as they broke apart from the embrace, her face like a sad memory he could bear to see no longer. "Never let anyone else say otherwise." And then she kissed him lightly on the cheek, and slowly walked away from him with the slight tap of her shoes.

Harry Potter sighed deeply under his breath in the defeat and walked toward the edge of the Astronomy Tower, feeling lonelier than he ever had in his entire lonesome life. It was during that moment when quite abruptly, a sudden storm sent him flying down the castle walls.

And then, everything went blank.

November 25th, 1999

The Potter Manor

London, England

"Harry, honey?" A vaguely familiar voice asked, and Harry blinked his eyes open, jolting awake from his bed with a start. "You alright?" And almost as if in the dream, Harry found himself staring at the familiar green eyes of his late mother, and Harry was no longer certain he wasn't dreaming anymore.

"Mom?"

"Evans, what'd happened?" And then out of the hallway of the house, his father came bursting inside the bedroom. "Is he awake?" he asked.

It was that moment when Harry remembered everything that'd happened the last few hours today. His trouble with getting to the Great Hall. Eating all by himself his breakfast before heading to the class that in his opinion, felt completely unnecessary. His break up with Ginny and then, the storm that forced him to fall down from the Astronomy Tower.

"Dad, am I dead?"

It was the only explanation he could think of that made any sort of sense.

His mother glared at his father sideways, her face flaring with an anger. "See? I knew I shouldn't have let Sirius talk me into letting my son staying with you of all the people. I am gone from his life for few days, and then he almost falls to his death!"

"If you somehow managed to forget, he is my son too, Evans! You didn't single-handedly make him by yourself!" His father's voice raised dramatically high and then he spins on his heel, glaring at his mother as he were ready for a murder. "Besides, how is any of this my fucking fault? He is eighteen, Evans! He should be able to take care of himself by now!"

"Oh, really? If he's such an independent human being, then how is it that he almost died today?"

"If you've raised him to be far better human being–,"

"That's a lot coming from you, Potter! Besides, since when were you an expert on parenting? You've spent the majority of his life hunting down one criminal group after another, far too busy to give even a minute of your life to your own son! So, don't you even dare lecture me about how I should parent my own son, Potter!"

"I've told you, Evans. I am busy with my work. You may not know it, but being the Head of the Auror Department isn't as easy as you seem to think it to be. So, while you go around defending murderers and petty criminals, I hunt them down and put them exactly where they belong!"

His mother huffed loudly under her throat in the clear disbelief, shaking her head stubbornly across the room. "I can't even believe you. You're insulting the work I do for the good of the people? No wonder we didn't work out for so long."

"No wonder." He agreed.

"Excuse me, but what the hell is going on here?"

His mother arched her eyebrows, falling down to kneel in front of him with the softest look he'd seen on her face today. "You fell down the stairs, honey."

"I…fell down the stairs?"

He knew he didn't fall down the stairs. Of course, he still didn't know if he was having a very wild dream or if he somehow fell into an alternate universe where his parents were alive and well, if only divorced. Though, that didn't matter much to him at the moment. He had more important things to worry about right now.

"By the look of it, you fell down pretty hard." His father added with a worried look on his face, sitting down by the bed beside his ex-wife. "Tell me, though, how are you feeling right now?"

"I feel fine." He told them plainly. "Just very confused."

"Confused how, honey?" His mother asked him, tilting her head at him somewhat curiously.

"How are you two still alive?" he asked. "Or am I just having a very wild dream right now?"

"Harry, what–"

Suddenly, the front door bust open with a loud thud against the wall, and his godfather came stumbling inside with a very similar looking fellow in the tow, both of them dressed as if they've come straight out of the gothic novel he knew Hermione secretly liked to read before bedtime.

"I came as soon as I've heard." Sirius informed them pointedly. "And as you can see, I even dragged my little brother here along."

"You didn't drag me along, you wanker." Regulus Black corrected his brother with a small frown. "I came along willingly. Stop telling people unnecessary lies, Sirius."

"He doesn't know what he's talking about, people. I dragged him along all the way from the hospital to here. And we all know he's always telling lies left and right. So, don't believe a word he says. I mean, he had me believe that I was actually a woman named Esmeralda Blackwood once. I don't think I even have to tell you people she was one hot looking witch."

"I was seventeen." Regulus looked like he was getting more and more annoyed by his older brother as each minute passed. He also looked like he was ready to strangle Sirius any second now. "And we were drunk."

"Anyway, how's my godson doing? He didn't forget me, did he? I heard that's what happens to the people who fell down the stairs. From the many medical books this little asshole here writes, of course." Beside him, Regulus rolled his eyes dramatically.

"I think he damaged his head badly, Regulus." His mother told the youngest Black brother, and the tall, dark-haired man nodded his head in the acknowledgement.

"I'll get him checked the first thing in the morning, Lil. So, don't worry yourself it too much, alright? He would be just fine." He said. "But right now, I think we all need some sleep before tomorrow. It has been quite a stressful day."

"Understatement of the century." James Potter agreed.

"And yes, sweetheart, that also involves you. If anything, more than any of us, you need a sleep. You've already gone without sleeping for three days straight already with all the work you've had back at the Ministry. You can't spend another sleepless night here. I am sorry, but I won't permit it. It's borderline unhealthy."

His mother waved her hands around her in the defeat and turned her head once again toward him, a soft smile filling her face like a morning sun. "You've heard him, Harry. Come on, let's go home." She informed him.

Home?

"But isn't this my home?"

His mother stared at him puzzled, sharing a secretive look with Regulus. "Honey, you haven't lived here more than a week since the divorce." She said. "And honestly, I think you've spent more than enough time here already this month."

"Where is home then?"

Now, his mother was staring at him as if he had grown a second head. "Why, in New York, of course."

Harry Potter was having one bad day.

And the day wasn't even close to over yet.

Chapter II

November 25th, 1999

New York, USA

When they'd port-keyed in the front of the house, Harry felt the familiar feeling of sickness in the pit of his stomach, and all of sudden, he felt like vomiting any moment then.

"Why couldn't we have taken a plane?" he asked his mother questioningly as they opened the front door with slight click, walking inside the quite expensive looking house with slow, careful steps. Regulus Black trailed after them cautiously, as if he were afraid something was going to strike them any moment then. "You know I loathe Portkey."

At least, he hoped she knew.

"Sweetheart, I don't like traveling by portkey either, but taking a plane would mean we would have to wait hours until we would arrive in New York."

"She just doesn't like planes, Harry. You know that." Regulus explained, looking at him suspiciously from the corner of the eye. "It seems we do have to get you checked first thing in the morning if you can't even remember such an important detail. You must've hit your head way harder than I previously thought."

He then sighed deeply under his throat, buttoning off his trench, dark coat. "Now, Harry, why don't you head to the bed? You have a rather long day waiting for you tomorrow." He told him. "You do remember you've promised to meet up with your friends tomorrow in the evening, right?"

"Of course," He didn't think he fucking remembered any of these stuff he was supposed to have known beforehand. "I may have hit my head, but I would never forget my friends."

Let's just hope that the friends he had here were the same ones he had back at home. He wouldn't know what else to do if we would have to act like he knew them on top of his family too.

Regulus still looked uncertain.

"Anyway, Regulus, would you mind? After all, as someone so wisely reminded me, I do have busy day tomorrow. So, I do think it's best to head off to the bed."

And try not to speak a word about how everything was much too weird here for his taste. Like, the fact that Regulus and his mother appeared to be far closer than he previously thought them to be. Maybe they were even married. After all, why not, right? It would only make sense that his mother remarried again after having divorced from his father.

Even if he still didn't even come to close to understanding any of what was currently happening to him right now.

Hopefully, he would wake up tomorrow morning from this bizarre dream (in more ways than just one) and everything would be fine once again, and he would be free to forget all this ever happened.

November 26th, 1999

There were quite a few things Harry Potter realized upon waking up in the somewhat unfamiliar house he was now forced to call home if only because he didn't think he was going to live anywhere else soon. Firstly, he had forgotten to brush his teeth last night before he went off to the sleep. Secondly, he'd also forgotten to change his clothes, and therefore, he was now sitting quite uncomfortably by the edge of the bed in the yesterday's clothes.

Lastly, he was now forced to accept the fact that everything that had happened since yesterday wasn't just another bizarre dream he'd had (after all, bizarre dreams of this sort weren't that unusual with him) and was actually a reality he now had to live with, even if he still didn't even come closer to understanding any of this mess than he was yesterday,.

"Good Morning, Harry." Lily greeted him warmly with small, quite happy looking smile when he stalked down the stairs toward the kitchen. "Omelet?"


	2. different world

A DIFFERENT WORLD

November 26th, 1999

New York General

New York, USA

"What do you mean he is completely fine?" Lily Evans asked Mrs. Abbott questioningly with eyebrows arched high, crossing her arms across her chest purely by habit. "There have to be something wrong with him. You don't know how weirdly he acted last night, Georgia. He thought I was dead! Does that sound like someone who's completely fine?"

"Look, I am just doing my fucking job here, Lily. So, don't you go all angry on me," She then tilted her head high in the air, and stalked away with a huff. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other patients I immediately have to see, Mrs. Black." She then stopped by where he sat quite comfortably on the white, silken couch with Regulus beside him. "Mr. Black." She greeted, nodding her head in the acknowledgement, before she stalked out of the door, and into the dark hallway.

"See, Mom? I've told you I am fine. Just a little confused, that's all."

"With all due respect, Harry, I don't think you are fine." Regulus told him. "Need I remind you that you fell down the stairs? You can't be fine after that."

"But I didn't fall down the stairs, Regulus!" He jumped to his feet, suddenly feeling like he could faint. "I fell down the Astronomy Tower."

Now, both of him were looking at him strangely. "Harry, that doesn't make any sense. Even if you didn't fall down the stairs like Potter said you did, what were you even doing at Hogwarts? You've already graduated last year." His mother asked, looking at him as if he'd grown a second head.

He was graduated? Thank Merlin. He wouldn't have to sit through another of those classes here then.

"Look, this may sound quite strange, even like something that may come out of a crazy person's mouth, but I am not actually from here." He said. "I am from another world where every one of you died during this huge war that cost me and everyone else someone they loved."

"War? What war? We haven't had one since Dumbledore defeated Grindlewald." Regulus asked. "Are you quite certain you don't have a fever? Because none of what you are telling us makes any sense, Harry."

"I am not Harry." He replied. "At least not the one you know."

"Who are you then?" His mother played along with an encouraging smile. Though she shared sideways glance with her husband. "If not my son?"

"I am Harry Potter. I am an orphan. I was the chosen one. I've fought in the war against Tom Riddle, and won. I am also eighteen, and for the first time in a very long time, I feel very confused."

"Tom Riddle?" Regulus questioned. "The Minister of Magic?"

"What do you mean Minister of Magic?" he asked. "How can he be the Minister of Magic?"

"Because we chose him to be one."

"He's a good man, if not too ambitious." Regulus added. "Anyway, let's say we actually believe you are who you say you are, then where is our son?" he asked.

"I don't know." He said. "But if I have to wager? My world."

Hogwarts, Scotland

"Another world?" Albus Dumbledore asked with a strange twinkle in his eye, and all of a sudden now that he was here with him, Harry didn't know what to do with himself. Should he yell at him for having lied to him all this time? No. Of course not. This wasn't the same Albus Dumbledore he knew. This was someone else. And therefore, he should treat him as such. "Quite curious. Quite curious indeed."

"We were hoping you could somehow help us out, Professor." His mother explained with a worried glance toward him. "Because honestly, I don't even know what to think, or what to believe. On one hand, I want to dismiss everything he'd said as a crazy talk. But on another hand, after having heard everything he'd told us, only now his behavior makes any sort of sense."

"Mr. Potter, pray tell, what happened to you before you awoke from your slumber in the Potter Manor?"

"I fell down the Astronomy Tower." He said. "There was a huge storm."

"And our Mr. Potter fell down the stairs." Professor Dumbledore made a humming sound under his throat, seeming to come to a rather startling realization. "At the same time, if I have to wager. And there was a huge storm last night in London, wasn't there, Mr. Black?"

Regulus simply nodded his head in an agreement as he sat at the corner of the office with a troubled look on his face. "I am assuming that's the cause. Though, we can't know for certain at the moment. I have to go through the similar cases before I can answer your question." He then turned to them with a pleasant-looking smile. "Lemon drops?" he asked.

"Thank you for the offer, Professor." She said. "But I have to decline the offer right now."

"Quite a shame." He then stared almost accusingly at Regulus with a small frown on his face. "And you, Regulus, never feel up to candy."

"Because they are too sweet for my taste, Professor." Regulus explained, sounding like he was getting quite tired of having to explain himself. "And you know me. I loathe sweet things."

He then jumped to his feet from his seat with the sweetest smile on his face and excused them from the Headmaster's company. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Professor. Lily and I have dinner to attend to, and Harry have to meet up with his friends. They haven't met since this summer and you see, he misses them quite dearly."

Professor Dumbledore nodded his head in the response. "Will you go and see the twins? I am sure the girls miss their family dearly."

Twins?

"Of course," His mother replied. "You wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you, Professor?"

Albus Dumbledore only gave them cheshire-like grin in the reply. "At this time of the day?" he said. "I wager they are by the lake. Unless, of course, they've decided to try to do something different today."

"Thank you, Professor." Regulus smiled. "We'll contact you soon enough. Then, we can talk about this matter freely."

"I look forward to it, Regulus." He said. "Now, I do think that there are daughters you have to see right now."

* * *

"Harry fell down the stairs?" Lucretia Black asked them with wide eyes, her dark hair swaying swiftly in the air as she lifted her head to them in surprise, her stormy-gray eyes meeting his own green ones from across the field. "But he's fine now, right, Papa?"

Harry nodded his head in the agreement. "Of course I am fine, Lucretia."

"Lucretia?" Lucretia arched her eyebrows suspiciously. "You always call me Tia, Harry. Are you absolutely certain you are fine?"

Genevieve Black agreed with her twin with a silent nod of her head, her slightly wavy red hair falling down her ears.

"I am fine." He persisted. "I am just a bit tired, that's all."

The twins seemed to have accepted that excuse for they both nodded their heads and turned toward their parents, asking them with similar, bright smiles on their faces. "Anyway, you all feeling up for lunch? I bet that the cooking here had improved here since you all attended here."

"Lead the way, mademoiselle." Regulus grinned at them in the reply as the twins giggled quite happily in the reply, and he followed them after them toward the castle.

Harry shared a secretive look with his mother (his confession didn't seem to have made much change in her behavior toward him) and followed after them quietly side by the side.


	3. HARRY POTTER? CONFUSED AS HELL

HARRY POTTER? CONFUSED AS HELL

November 26th, 1999

Hogwarts, Scotland

The dark-haired, green-eyed eighteen-year-old boy awoke in back of the school infirmary with a startling gasp, blinking his eyes wide confusedly at the familiar white ceiling above his head. He was in the infirmary. In the fucking school infirmary, excuse his French, please. He'd thought he'd no longer have to go through this experience ever again after he'd finally graduated.

Apparently not.

For heaven's sake, exactly how drunk was he last night for him to suddenly wound up here months after he'd finally graduated? He knew he probably shouldn't have taken Malfoy's dare yesterday, especially when Malfoy was looking for someone to cheer his low mood after he and Granger went separate ways last week (though if experience had taught him anything at all about the pair of them, they would be locking lips once again by the end of this week). But Harry had never been one to refuse a dare, especially if it was a dare from one of his best mates.

And as arrogant and narcissistic Draco Malfoy may often be (he would pray for someone's soul if they ever dared to call him by his actual first name), he was his best mate despite how many times he'd wished to flush his head down the bloody toilet.

When he would meet him later today, Harry would most certainly remember to return the favor back to him. Though, knowing the blonde, he would somehow wind his way out of it.

"Harry?" Granger's voice called out from the back of the infirmary and Harry abruptly sat up on the bed, staring at the familiar, chocolate-brown eyes of his most favorite Gryffindor. Mostly because she was the only one that could call out Malfoy on his shit and actually get away with it without an injury.

If he'd tried that?

Malfoy would find some way to plot his death. And then he would try plotting his death right back, thus beginning an endless cycle of plotting. "You're awake?"

Wait a fucking minute.

Since when did Granger call him by his first name? He'd always been Potter to her from the start. Even after she'd started shagging his blond, smug little best friend.

Harry turned his head toward the brunette and arched his eyebrows curiously to the side. "Granger?" he asked. "What time is it?"

"It's past two in the morning." She asked scandalously, walking over to his bedside as she stood with her arms crossed slightly over her chest, clearly concerned by his presence in here. Believe him, if he were in her shoes, he would be too. "And since when did you call me by my surname, Harry? Are you mad at me, or something? Because I seriously didn't know Ginny was planning on breaking up with you. I swear. If you like, I'll even swear it on the Hogwarts: A History."

"Ginny?" he asked. "Ginny who?"

"Oh, Merlin! Did you get hit in the head that badly? You don't even remember your girlfriend's…excuse me, ex-girlfriend's name? I knew I should have been more worried when you've slept for two days straight. You've never slept for more than one day. Even during the war."

"War?" For some reason, he felt like he was repeating himself. "What bloody war? There hadn't been a fucking war since the one with Grindelwald, Granger!"

He then jumped to his feet with a thud, shaking his stubbornly at the brunette from across the room. "Look, I am getting tired of this game, Granger. If you want someone to play pretend with you, get your fucking boyfriend. I'm certain he'll be more than happy enough to play anything you want. But, me? I just want to fucking go home." He then turned on his heel and stalked away with a slight nod of acknowledgement toward her way. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a business to attend. A business that doesn't involve yourself."

"Harry?" She cried out in the surprise, turning toward him confusedly as she stalked out of the infirmary, her cries barely a whisper. "Harry, wait a minute! Harry, would you fucking listen to me? God damn it, Harry Potter!"

But he was just far too away to listen.

He stalked through the familiar dark hallways of the castle (three Slytherins ran through these same hallways once upon a time, drunk as the devil himself) and out of the castle where he quite accidentally bumped into Professor McGonagall ("Mr. Potter, Mr. Nott and Mr. Malfoy, where in the world are your bloody clothes?"), the elder woman's stare warming up immediately at the sight of him.

Weird.

He would have thought McGonagall would have been relieved to be rid of him after all the ruckus he and the other two had made through the years before they've finally graduated with golden marks fitting only for a prefect. (Confession: he should have never been a made prefect. He probably wouldn't have ended up in that disaster of a relationship with Parkinson if he hadn't).

And had bid this fucking shithole of a school a bye (look, just because he was shitting on it all the time didn't actually mean he didn't love Hogwarts with all of his bleeding heart) while getting pissed drunk, and made some serious questionable decisions that last night (needless to say, only James was impressed by his less than appropriate behavior, the other two banned him from playing Quidditch until a few months ago).

"Oh Merlin, Professor McGonagall. I am very sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going, and–,"

"No need to apologize, Mr. Potter." She told him with the most genuine looking smile he'd seen on her face. "I do think that after having saved the world once and for all from him, you are permitted to accidentally bump into once or twice without having to apologize."

"Excuse me, but what?" He asked, once again, very much confused. Was he still dreaming? No, he would never dream he had saved the world. That sound more like something Neville boy would dream. But, he? If he was creative enough to dream up something like this, he wouldn't have dreamt he was back in the boarding school. "Saved the world from who, if you don't mind me asking, Professor?"

"Why? From Tom Riddle, of course."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Why in the fucking world would I even need to have to save the world from the fucking Minister himself, Professor?" he asked. "I mean, forgive me for my language, but he's the fucking Minister of Magic!"

"Minister of Magic?" She blinked her eyes confusedly at them, now glancing at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Mr. Potter, are you entirely sure you are alright?"

"I am fine." He assured her half-heartedly. "Obviously, I am fucking fine. Can't you see? I am fucking happy."

McGonagall glared at him disapprovingly. "Language!"

"Excuse me, Professor." He said. "But I really have to go home to change before meeting up with my friends at the bar."

"Mr. Potter?"

But he was already stalking away down the street in the hurry, not really in the mood to listen to anything she had to say.

"Mr. Potter!"

New York, USA

Harry Potter loathed portkeys more than anything else in the fucking world. It didn't matter what Regulus told him every time. He fucking loathed them.

Harry stalked toward his house, picking up the newspaper that laid on the lawn, and stared at the paper confusedly.

NEW YORK DAILY

CHARITY BALL FOR THE WAR ORPHANS. ORGANIZED BY NARCISSA MALFOY.

TURN TO Page 3 TO KNOW MORE.


	4. NIGHTMARE

NIGHTMARE

New York, United States of America

November 26th, 1999

None of those things he'd read in the newspaper made any sense to the eighteen-year-old Slytherin boy. A second wizarding war? There hadn't even been the first one from where he came from. The Lord Voldemort? If he wished to go all evil on them all, couldn't he have picked a name that sounded less like some sort of a very hilarious joke? How could anyone have taken him seriously with that name? Yeah, Harry thought, certainly he'd been regretting that name choice not soon after his terrible naming decision.

After all, no mother would be cruel enough to name their child Lord Voldemort. Even someone who would sire a murdering psychopath like Lord Voldemort.

Harry flipped the next page, feeling quite amused indeed by the whole prospect that the wizarding world would be run down by someone that had such a name. Certainly, he'd been terrifying enough to make people all over the world to fear him so much. But coming from the world where the wizarding kind neither feared any man or the war he had brought to the world, Harry couldn't quite bring himself to understand it. Regulus had told him once that only after you've been in his shoes that you do understand a man's pain, and struggle he'd suffered through after the act. Well, Harry obviously hadn't been in anyone's shoes here, much less in the shoes of his alternate counterpart here.

Speaking of his alternate counterpart, Harry gazed confusedly at the newspaper headline, his parents had been married here? It certainly sounded so much worse than anything he'd read about this world he found himself somehow trapped in today. After all, from an experience Harry knew every time his parents crossed paths every now and then, they always ended up hurling insults back and forth. So, he really couldn't understand how they even managed to stay married without someone trying to murder the other.

Harry sighed down his throat, and jumped on his feet once more, feeling more confused than he ever did in his entire life. He really needed to find Regulus. If there was one thing he knew about his life, it was that every time he went looking for an answer, Regulus always had some kind explanation hidden in his massive, library-sized brain (well, not literally, of course).

So, first thing first. Go back to London. Find Regulus, try to convince him this madness even he wasn't sure he believed. And knowing his step-father, he would listen thoroughly without a comment and make a completely logical explanation as to why he found himself trapped in this nightmare-like world.

He just wanted to get pissed drunk for once in his life. Damn it. If he'd known this would have happened, he never would've agreed to that fucking dare.

Harry whipped the slight dirt on his expensive designer-made dark robes, and in the matter of a mere second, gone and apparated.

London, England

12 Grimmauld Palace

HERE LIES REGULUS A. BLACK

(1961-1979)

BELOVED SON

Harry fell down to his knees in front of the grave, feeling utterly lost for the first time in his life. Tears filled his eyes abruptly, falling down his cheeks to his lips, the sour taste of the tears bitter on his tongue. He would have thought everything would have been fine even if his parents were gone and dead in this world if only he was here with him to support him. It may sound cruel to some people, but Harry had always loved him the most out of his parents (even if he wasn't biologically, his parent).

Regulus had raised him. He had taught him how to read (with the ever supporting help from his mother, of course), how to play Quidditch without ever having to cheat his way to win and how to duel properly, to defend himself and others from the possible harm that they may encounter. Regulus had been there for him his entire life. But now that in this strange and confusing world where everything seemed to have gone wrong, Harry was no longer certain how to proceed with his life.

His father would tell him he was an adult now (even if he hadn't felt like his father for an awfully long time), and therefore, should start making his own decisions. His mother would tell him he could always go to her for the help if he thrived it, but his mother wasn't here to help him out. She was dead, buried under the ground with the husband she loathed more than anything somewhere on the goddamn planet. As for Regulus? Dead before his time, only at eighteen. The same he was right now.

He couldn't even imagine dying so young.

"Harry?" A familiar voice rang on the other side of the courtyard and Harry lifted his head to look, to look at the familiar face of Hermione Granger approaching him with slow, uncertain steps. "Are you alright?"

"No." he confessed. "I don't think I am."

"Come here. I'll make you a cup of tea, and we can talk." She smiled at him comfortingly and offered him her hand. "How does that sound, my friend?"

"Perfect, actually." It was only then he did realize just how sore his throat felt compared to before. How much tired he'd felt after everything that happened today. Maybe if he slept now, he would come back home and this nightmare would come to an end. Maybe he would then be finally able to wrap his arms around the shoulders of his quite alive parents, tell them how much he appreciated, and loved them. He didn't think he ever thought about how much he would miss them if they were to die until today. Well, after today, he didn't think he would ever forget.

* * *

"So, let me get this straight. You think you are from another world where the war had never happened and your parents are very much alive, only divorced."

"You don't believe me."

"Of course, I believe you, Harry. You are my best friend. I am simply struggling to wrap my head around all of this."

"Believe me, I would too if I were in your shoes." Well, he had in her shoes few hours ago. So, there was that.

"Can you tell me one thing, though?"

He blinked at her confusedly. "Are we friends?" she asked. "You and me, and Ron?"

"Ron?" he slowly repeated, confused. "Why would I even be friends with that food-obsessed, red-haired wanker?" It sounded horrible. In fact, it sounded like something he would never dream of doing. Why in the world would he befriend such a fiend? But then again, he supposed his counterpart was someone entirely different from him. Therefore, it only made sense he had different friends.

But, still.

Why?

"So, I take that as no, then." She curled her lips upward somewhat awkwardly. "Are we friends then?"

"I meet you on the daily basis. Does that count?" He really didn't think she would appreciate him telling just whom she'd been shagging in the other life. From what little he could gather of this world, his friend's family didn't have the best reputation.

"Well, beggars can't be choosers, can they?" She gave him a small smile. "So, then, shall we go back to Hogwarts?"

"Why?"

"If we wish to find a way to return you to your world, we need a help. Someone adult that could help us. And with Dumbledore dead, she's the only one we can count on right now."

"But, how can we be assured she would even help me out, Granger?"

Granger's face dropped at the name. "Because you are the chosen one, whether you are from another world or not." She told him pointedly. "And believe me when I say that counts as something in here."

He wasn't so certain.

After all, he didn't fight in the war, did he? He didn't know any of the pain these people have gone through. So, how could it even count? Despite his disagreement, Harry nodded his head anyway, and stalked after her, silently apparating after her.

Hogwarts, Scotland

"Maybe he just hit his head?"

Harry shook his head. "Believe me, Professor. If I actually hit my fucking head, I wouldn't have conjured up something quite like this. I probably would've told you I thought I was an eleven-year-old orphan boy who lives with his cruel muggle relatives, or something like that." And he'd only met his aunt Petunia thrice in his life. Once when he was eight, and twice when he was fourteen. Even then, she hadn't made the best impression on him.

Hermione stared. "Language," she warned. "We are in the polite company. Therefore, you should be more polite."

"I grew up around Sirius Black. Much to my step-father's chagrin, of course. Believe me, even if I wished to, I couldn't help how I talk."

"Step-father?" McGonagall asked, now sounding all too curious. "Your mother remarried?"

"Frankly, I don't see how that's any of your concern, but she did. And she was happier than she'd ever been in her entire life." Well, as far as he knew, of course.

She gazed at him knowingly, like she knew something he didn't know. "Well, I cannot say I quite believe you right now without a valid proof that could support your word, but I can promise you I would look up similar cases."

"Thank you, Professor."

And they jumped to their feet and stalked away, walking down the stairs into the almost empty hallway. Hermione turned to him once they were a safe distance away from the Headmistress' office (he still couldn't believe the old man was dead here), and smiled at him slightly, a secretive look in her brown eyes.

If he were his blonde friend, he probably would've said something equally flirty, and downright confusing by now.

"If it brings you any consolation, I do believe you, Harry. I would always believe you."

He smiled. "Thank you, Gran… I mean, Hermione."

"You can call me Granger if you wish." She then added, "Though, I must admit it does sound strange coming from your mouth."

"Granger, then."

Hermione smiled. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night."

Then, they walked their separate ways.


	5. friends

_Mate, _

_Something urgent came up right now. Can't meet today. _

_Rain-check?_

_P.S. _

_Worry not about the smug, narcissistic asshole we call our best friend, Harry. I'll be sure to notify him before I leave. So, just take a time off for once, and maybe find someone to spend the night with. Also, do tell hello to your parents for me, and how terribly sorry I've been having been forced to refuse their generous invitation for the dinner last week. Sadly, I've been unable to attend._

_Yours truly, Theodore Nott_

_Theodore,_

_Rain-check._

_Harry_

Hongsmeade, Scotland

November 28th, 1999

Those people weren't his friends.

Back home, those were the people he usually made a snide, often patronizing comment at before moving on with his day. But those people were _his_ friends, and he really didn't think his alternate self would appreciate it much if he'd ruined his friendship with his best mates.

He may be living his life now right now, but he wasn't going to forever. He has to remember that regardless how much at home he felt here surrounded with the familiar faces of the people he wished he knew back at home, and those he wished he could have saved from having to die in the first place.

This wasn't his home.

And those people weren't his to have.

"I am getting married." Theodore Nott announced suddenly as he gulped down his butterbeer to the last drop. "That's why I've delayed this meet-up until today. I had to go to France, ask Gabrielle's parents for her hand like a proper gentleman I am."

Malfoy snorted loudly under his nose. "A gentleman? You? Yeah, right." But he was grinning widely at his brown-haired friend, anyway. "Your bride wouldn't be feeling that way when I tell her about that time you've slept with the trio of triplets one night, I think."

He then turned to him grinningly like they were best of the friends. "Remember how we made the fun out of him the morning after he appeared in our humble flat looking like he'd been ravished by a wild animal, Potter? And how you were forced to pay me hundred galleons for losing the bet?"

Theodore made a face. "A bet?" He sounded scandalized. "You betted on whether or not I would hook up with them?"

"Of course not. Who do you think we are, Nott? A couple of uncreative assholes?" Malfoy shook his head, taking a small sip from his cup. "Harry here bet you would hook up with the Patil twins. I, on the other hand, bet you would sleep with the triplets instead. Now I remember, Wagner triplets. Only naturally, I won the bet." He then added shortly after. "Though, I must admit it was quite unfair of me to get Harry to bet on such a thing."

"Finally, here comes a day when Lord Malfoy, king of assholes admits his mistakes." Theodore cheered. "I feel like I might cry from the happiness."

"I don't want to ruin your little parade here, mate, but I was talking about Lord Potter here. It was unfair of me to get him into agreeing to bet with me when I knew it was a losing battle for him." Harry arched his eyebrows at him curiously. "After all, I knew Parvati was a lesbian even then. She would have never gone for our mate here. He lacks the right genitals."

Harry chocked on his drink abruptly. "I am sorry, but what?" he asked.

Another thing that was different here? Or was it just something he somehow had failed to notice yet again? After all, as Harry would grudgingly admit, he wasn't the most observant of the people. No, that reward would easily go to Luna Lovegood. She had a tendency to notice things about the people even when they themselves did not. Even if it was something that time and time again had proven to be somewhat annoying.

"You really didn't notice how her eyes would follow Brown everywhere she went?"

"Even I knew that." Theodore added.

"I am sorry, but I thought today was bash on Theodore Nott day? Not bash on Harry Potter day?"

"That's next Friday."

Harry frowned at them deeply. "Why are we friends again?" he asked.

"Because we are all couple of privileged, white assholes that nobody else likes."

"Objection!" Theodore raised his hand up in the air. "Plenty of people like me. I mean, come on! Look at me! I'm fucking fabulous. Who wouldn't like me?"

"You are also pissed drunk."

Malfoy agreed with the slight nod of his head. "How many glasses did you have again? Three? Come on, honey, you have to do way better than that. Even my cousin can do better than that."

"Your cousin is fucking monster."

"Come on, mate, that doesn't make a fucking sense. How is my cousin a monster? She's Luna, for Salazar's sake! She's like a wizarding Mother Teresa. She probably would gladly die saving orphans, or something."

"Whoever are you kidding, mate?" Harry asked. Surprisingly, he was having fun. After all, wasn't that why his mother convoked him to hang out with them? To have fun. Even if they were people he would have gladly ignored completely last week. "That's obviously— holy cow, is that your fiancée?"

"Gabrielle, darling!" Theo grinned foolishly. "Have you come here because you've missed me?"

Gabrielle Delacour approached them with slow, careful steps. She looked like someone who've never been inside a bar once in her life. She didn't look like the small, fragile little girl he'd first met when he was fourteen.

"Theo, we have to talk." Theodore stared at her curiously, obviously still drunk as hell. "It's your father. He's demanding we invite him to the wedding and honestly, I don't even know—"

"You can tell him to the hell where he belongs." Theodore told the petite little blonde with a somewhat cruel edge to his voice, his eyes dark with the pain of the memories Harry neither knew, nor wished to know. He had enough of his demons alone without adding someone else's. "He ignores my existence for years, and now he suddenly wishes to be involved in my life? Well, fuck that. He had his chance already. I refuse to allow him to rampage my life again."

He then turned to them, collected his jacket off the stool and told them in a hurried, panicked voice. "I have to go. Meet you guys later?"

Harry stared. "You want us to come with you?" he asked.

He shook his head. "This is something I should do by myself." He told them, "It's about the damn time I faced against him, don't you think?"

And then, as fast as he had come, he was gone.

"You think you can drink another bottle?" Malfoy challenged.

Harry was never one to turn down a good challenge.

New York, USA

Harry Potter opened the front door wide with tipsy, drunken steps. Malfoy supported his weight by the shoulders, his hands on his shoulder unfamiliar and foreign. Though, they weren't entirely unwelcome.

Lily Evans sat on the couch in the living room with the happiest-looking smile on her face as she run her small hands through her dark-haired husband's fancy hair, looking much like she was in her own haven. But, who knew? Maybe this was her haven.

And not for the first time since he'd come to this world, Harry was forced to wonder exactly what kind of relationship his mother had with Regulus Black back at home. Were they friends? Lovers? Or were they just strangers who just happened to attend the same boarding school? He would never know.

"Harry, sweetheart, that you?"

Harry greeted her with a small, tight smile. "Yeah. It's me." He turned to look at the blonde that was currently hugging him like his life depended on it. "And this blonde wanker here."

"I've heard that."

He grinned. "Good. "

"Asshole!"

"Now, boys. You must have a busy day tomorrow. So, why don't you go to the bed already?"

"With all the due respect, I must head home."

"Nonsense." She objected. "I'll call Narcissa. You can stay here for the night."

"Well then, race you upstairs?"

Harry nodded his head in the agreement.

And before the blonde could say another word, forced himself out of his grip and made run toward the second floor, not willing to lose any more than Malfoy did.

"You cheat!"

And then, finally when they made it to his room, they collapsed on the bed and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he succumbed into the sleep.


End file.
